


The Pride Of The Flag Echos

by Dd_Ridge1995



Series: War [2]
Category: Generation Kill
Genre: American Patriotism, Gen, Generation Kill - Freeform, Patriotism, Singing, Soldiers, This comes with a song, its the Star Spangled Banner, you either listen to it or don't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:06:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27022465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dd_Ridge1995/pseuds/Dd_Ridge1995
Summary: "Drowning out the homesickness wasn't going to be easy, after all, as much of a hard-edged American that Nate was, he didn't know many patriotic songs, except one of course, the national anthem."
Series: War [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1794892
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	The Pride Of The Flag Echos

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the song that goes with this, I edited it in twistedwave audio editor, and clipchamp to make the video  
> -  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vM0Hb2jMo4g&feature=youtu.be

Nate stepped into the small mud-brick tower, he’d just gotten word that the hostiles had up and ran away, his squad was clearing the small buildings that dotted the massacred village for intel. As he stepped in, he looked up, a large staircase spiraled around the area in a square, leading up to the top of the tower. His military boots and gear made a soft echo throughout the walls, and escaped out of a window that resembled a church window. A rectangle with a pointed top, fancy curved metal bars stood in for the lack of glass. The lieutenant felt small in such a building, ornate and complex etchings indented the wall, only stopped by chips and cracks in the dried mud. Correction: the lieutenant felt insignificant. He’d seen houses more decorated than it, but whatever purpose it had served had obviously been very important to the people that lived in the village. Enough so, that they’d designed it with the emotion of a welcoming house attached to it. It felt like a home he’d never lived in. 

“Holy shit.” His whisper barely bounced around the room.   


Nate knew that if there were any hostiles left, they’d know that the group was there, it was practically impossible to miss the Humvees and the idiotic stench that loomed over Ray. If it wasn’t obvious enough, it sure would be in a minute or two when Ray decided to do his comical take at Cowboys Like Us at full, child-screeching, volume. Well, not if Nate could get to it first, that is. Before Ray could remind Nate of switching through the radio stations on his garbage 1990 Toyota Supra, passing over the country station until inevitably turning the radio off. He kind of missed home, the battlefield wasn’t all of what he thought it was going to be, but he knew he’d also miss the battlefield if he left. He loved his country, he loved to be fighting for it too. But now, he felt distanced from America, he tried getting it off his mind by walking around the room and dusting off bookshelves. Drowning out the homesickness wasn't going to be easy, after all, as much of a hard-edged American that Nate was, he didn't know many patriotic songs, except one of course, the national anthem.   


Say what you will about the lieutenant, but he wasn’t one for singing, dare say singing in a very sound-sensitive tower, with about five to seven people ready to roast him for singing the national anthem, in the middle of the Iraqi desert. At this point, Nate had tried remembering what it was like to be patriotic, but everytime he got the jolt of American pride in him, it fizzed away like flat soda. He wasn’t having a very good time debating on whether or not to sing, it was either sing and feel better, but also be the cheapest way of making a cheesy joke, or not sing, and figure out American patriotism in a hard, forgetful process. He started out making generally normal sounds, gently dropping books, tapping his boot, anything really to ease into the normality of sound coming from the tower. So far, nothing made sense from the books he read, no demeaning pictures or underlined words, for all he knew, he could’ve been looking at cook books. He sighed quietly, sinking back into his routine of remembering and forgetting until he sat down and rubbed his temples. Looking at arabic writing, being in an Iraqi tower, and extreme middle-eastern weather just made it all the more difficult than it really had to be. He relaxed in the chair before sitting up and preparing himself for first-hand verbal assault. He took a deep breath in, calming himself, and sung, letting his words break free, and American patriotism echo.   
  
_ O say can you see,  _ _  
_ _ By the dawn's early light _

_ What so proudly we hailed, _ _  
_ _ At the twilight's last gleaming _ _  
_ _ Whose broad stripes and bright stars  _ _  
_ _ Through the perilous fight _ _  
_   
Nate felt his voice wobble at the last bit, he continued anyway.

_ O'er the ramparts we watched,  _ _  
_ _ Were so gallantly streaming? _

_ And the rocket's red glare,  _ _  
_ _ The bombs bursting in air _

_ Gave proof through the night  _ _  
_ _ That our flag was still there _

_ O say does that star-spangled banner yet wave _

_ O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave _ _  
_ _  
_ His body was shaky, his mind was scrambling, and his breathing was uncontrolled. But he felt it, he remembered it. American patriotism. It hit him like a freight train. The Fourth of July, red white and blue, owning land, going nuts over fireworks, guns, freedom, bald eagles, god, fucking Chuck Norris for Christs sake, all of it. Even the things that wouldn’t be considered patriotic by other countries like getting over-drafted at the bank and complaining about landlords. It felt like he had recovered from a cold, fresh and new. His stomach was queasy and his legs were shaking, though, he wasn’t expecting that out of himself, and neither were the others apparently. Ray burst through the door, the force of it opening echoed around the two of them. Nate had made his way around to the opposite side of the room, continuing to inspect books and letters.  
  
“Sir, I’m gonna be real with you,” He started, “what the fuck did I just hear come out of this building?”  
  
“Star Spangled Banner, I wouldn’t imagine a country music hick like you would know that though.” Nate joked.  
  
Ray moved his arm dismissively, “No _that_ was _not_ the Star fucking Spangled Banner, the Star Spangled Banner I know is sung by some hot-shot kid who thinks they’re the shit being able to hit high notes until they reach maturity and end up in a 9-5 job for the rest of their life. _That_ was like god decided to forgive Brad and Trombley and give us one good fucking thing out of this shithole. Sir.”  
  
“What’d Brad and Trombley do?”  
  
“Eat Charms and Kill Christ.” With that, Ray promptly left, leaving Nate to question who ate Charms and who killed Christ.


End file.
